Perplex
by Kickin' Kori Anders
Summary: Damian has been spotting the same girl in both of his live: Stephanie Brown. Too bad, she isn't real. So when a feline shows up at his window one night with the same qualities as the woman, is it just an coincidence? Or is something much bigger than the two of them i charge? Eventual Dami/steph, involves friendship too. T


**This is my first time writing Damian, or Brown,(kinda) so let me know how I did and what I should fix please.**

**I know it says romance, but for now it's friendship. No, it won't be beastiality. Just you wait.**

** Disclaimer: I don't own DC.**

/

Various objects slammed and became damaged as they met the mall. His arms flailed madly and his young face was red with pure fury and frustration that had been building up slowly over the last five months. He could feel a lump in his throat forming as he roared, but he swallowed it.

"Why don't they believe me!?" he vented as he wrecked his room like Godzilla wrecks Tokyo. He flipped a desk, sending papers flying everywhere, and when he was about to rip the pictures from his wall, he made himself stop. He stood there heaving and red faced as he surveyed the damage he had done. He always preferred to be organized and clean, but at the moment, he simply just didn't care.

He unclenched his fists and sat down on his plush bed. He ran his hands through his hair—a habit he had picked up from Grayson.

"Why don't they remember **her**?"Damian breathed deeply though his nostrils and let it out. Even now as eighteen years old, he still had problems controlling his natural anger. He was frustrated beyond reason—and over an imaginary wrench too. "I don't understand," he muttered.

He started noticing Stephanie Brown a few months ago. She was always in the background, always wearing eggplant, and her bubblegum pink lips were always pulled up a grin that seemed just for him. She'd pop up, not only in Damian's civilian life, but his crime fighting one too. After a few times of spotting her, Damian went to conflict her under the suspicion that she knew his identity, and that could mean his father's too.

But when he got close, she'd disappear without a trace. It happened every time, and each time he got more and more frustrated. Plus, he wondered how he even knew her name at all if he had never spoken to her. Names are everything, though, or so he thought. But when he looked her up on the Batcave's database, or asked around about her, there was nothing on her.

Damian tried to convince himself that she wasn't real; she had to be just an figment of his imagination. But she wouldn't leave his mind—he just couldn't let go of her, couldn't forget her. It felt like she was just playing with him, something that frustrated him to no end.

As he tried to think of a solution to the Brown problem, an annoying scratching at his window interrupted his train of thought. He stood and cautiously walked over to his large window. When he arrived at it though, there wasn't anyone standing there.

He opened the window, and looked around outside it, and noticed the cat sitting on his ledge. It had fine, blonde hair that shone in the light of his room, and wide tiffany blue eyes that seemed to say "let me in or else". A ratty purple collar hung around her neck and its bell jingled as she tilted her head up to look at Damian.

_**Meow.**_

Damian raised an eyebrow and scowled. "What do you want?" The cat rolled her eyes and stuck her head inside.

"No, you cannot come inside; you might have fleas scuttling all over you." The cat rolled her eyes and stared up at Damian. Damian returned the stare with a glare, and so began the starting contest. Damian's lip slowly formed into a thin line with a hint of a pout while the golden cat's tail danced. Finally, Damian snorted:

"Fine, but only for tonight." The cat seemed to smile and joyfully strutted past Damian's legs, letting out a satisfied purr. Damian closed the window and followed the cat, who had curled up on his bed. Damian calmly picked up the curled up cat and dropped her onto the floor. When the cat landed on her feet and glared up at him, he stated:

"No cats on the bed- I don't like to sleep in a blanket of cat fur." The cat sighed but repeated her previous position on the floor. Damian lay down on his bed and returned to thinking about the Brown problem, but this time he was much rational and calm in his thinking process. He didn't know how long he lay there, just thinking. It was easy to get lost in thought.

Somewhere along the seemingly endless minutes, Damian had closed his eyes. So when something soft and furry touched his nose, he was startled, but he didn't show it. The Batman wouldn't show it. His eyes snapped open and revealed the golden cat that hovered inches above his face.

"What?"

_**Meow.**_

She swatted at his face a couple of time and looked towards the door.

"You need to use the restroom?"

_**Merrow.**_

"Thirsty?"

_**Meroow.**_

Damian sat up, knocking the cat from his chest and into his lap. Her nose twitched and she tilted her head as Damian yelled.

"What is you want your twice damned wrench!?"

An amused look crossed the cat's face, and then she jumped off him and ran towards the door.

_**Meow!**_

When the stray began to scratch at the door, Damian let out a string of cuss words in foreign languages before scolding the cat. Then, when he opened the door for her, she bolted out of sight. Damian was tempted to just go lay in his bed again, but he decided to follow the cat, because who know what she could do without supervision?

He carefully followed her down the creaky stairs of the mansion and into the kitchen. When he arrived, the cat sat on the kitchen counter next to a cabinet. She batted the door open and then stood on her hind legs, peering inside. Finally she let out a small meow and batted down a box.

Damian picked up the box and saw it was a waffle mix.

"No, he said flatly. "I'm not going to make you waffles." The cat cocked her head to the side. Damian marched back and forth.

"Cats are supposed to be hunters—go catch something!" The cat's ears pinned down to the back of her head. Damian picked up the cat and dropped her off the counter." No cats on the counter either." The feline immediately turned around and jumped back up on the counter and scratched at the box helplessly.

"Off, vermin!" The Cat hissed and looked pointedly at the waffles.

"No. I am not going to make waffles for a **cat**." The cat made a throaty growl that almost sounded like a plead. Damian fought the urge to give in as he crossed his arms over his chest. Finally the cat realized that she wasn't getting anywhere with this approach. Her stomach let out a loud growl, and finally, the cat let out a hungry yowl and walked over to the kitchen window and rubbed against it.

_**Meow.**_

Damian opened the window, and the cat expertly jumped out into the Wayne Manor's backyard. The cat then darted into the trimmed bushes and out of sight. Damian sighed and closed the window. He didn't understand why he was disappointed the stray had left, but she was gone now.

He picked up the waffle mix off of the ground and quietly put it back in cabinet. His father may have been away on a Justice League mission, but Alfred was still here. He grabbed a juicy, ruby apple from the expensive fridge and took a bite. He chewed it thoughtfully as he thought about training, when he heard a large crash from the backyard.

Damian swiftly dropped the apple on the counter and sneaked into the backyard. Had a villain discovered their secret identities? And came to attack? Or maybe it was burglars with big ideas for the Waynes? It didn't matter—he'd stop them, or the security system would. Plus, he was always eager for a fight.

His lifetime of training automatically kicked in and he stealthfully made his way through the manor's backyard/garden towards the sound of the crash. When he pinpointed the exact location of the crash, he carefully entered the cul-de-sac like garden trail.

Its edges were embroidered with multicolored flowers and bushes, and in the center once stood a set of elaborate glass statues. Now they lay on the ground in pieces—as if they had been tipped like dominos. Damian crept out towards the shattered statues and examined them. There was no sign of the cause: no rocks, no footprints, no bullet shells, or anything else that could have caused the crash.

He heard in a nearby bush, a menacing, low hiss. He slowly turned around towards the sound, and found a snake not even a foot away. It wasn't just any regular gardener snake either—

It was a Copperhead.

Damian's mind automatically issued instructions on how to deal with a simple snake. He slowly and silently backed up towards the exit, but the snake followed. Damian gritted his teeth; he had great respect for snakes, but had no problem with killing them. He kept backing up, and the snake kept following. Finally, the Copperhead rose to strike.

Damian tensed, prepare to counterattack, and then he heard a jingle from the flowerbed nearby, capturing both the snake, and vigilante's attention. They both saw a flickering golden tail and ears peaking out of the flowerbed before there was a flash of eggplant and gold, and suddenly the Copperhead was tackled.

The same strange stray cat from before! She sunk her teeth into the Copperhead's neck as it snapped at her. But her grip as firm as she swung it around, the life lowly drained from the Copperhead's body. Soon it was limp in jaws, which dripped with crimson blood.

She carried over to Damian, and carefully set it down at his feet, and then gazed up at him. The expression on her face said: "See? Guess who can hunt?" Damian smirked and bent down to the cat's level. He ran his hand over her back and she let out a satisfied purr.

"Impressive, that you caught him while he was hunting himself." Damian sucked in his dark cheek and stood. He tapped his leg in invitation, and began to walk away. The golden cat glided beside him as they made the wee journey back to the mansion.

As they walked, Damian commented, "I think you have earned those waffles feline. Perhaps you can stay another couple of days too, if you behave. " It may be physically impossible for cats to grin like the Cheshire Cat, but the feline sure tried. The cat purred and rubbed against his legs. She felt sure she would convince the human to let her stay more than just a couple of days.

"I suppose I should name you too, " He peered down at the curious cat, and then it hit him like a ton of bricks. " Stephanie Brown. Unless you'd rather be named pest, or wrench," Brown nodded, and together they entered into the big house that was one's home, and the other's soon to be.

….

**I got so many feels writing this! I have ideas for more chapters, and had so much fun writing this. **

**KKA**


End file.
